


I think I could love you

by scepticallyopenminded



Series: Cross-Postings from Tumblr (Written from 2011-2013) [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Band, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, M/M, Nurse Liam, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, there's a teeny mention of rape in there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 02:51:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3471614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scepticallyopenminded/pseuds/scepticallyopenminded
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He normally didn’t take the shortcuts home from work—they went through a bad part of town, through alleys and tiny passageways that were probably extremely dangerous (not that he, y’know, personally knew, but he figured), but today, he was in a hurry.</p><p>So he did take a shortcut home, through an alleyway that would save him a few minutes on his walk, and stumbled upon—whoa.</p><p>He literally stumbled over a pair of legs, and glanced over to…a person.</p><p>A person who was obviously crying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I think I could love you

**Author's Note:**

> someone prompted me this: "can you do a lirry where liam walks into an alley way to get home from work and sees niall crying on the ground with a blade in his hand (li doesnt know niall tho) and cutting himself and liam brings him to his place and a bunch of fluffy/angsty stuff happens, mostly niall talking about how is is broken and no one can love him and liam kisses him and they both kinda smile and a happy ending c; a little lengthier maybe? thanks! feel free to add stuff!"
> 
> it's a bit sad and I'm not sure how I feel about it, but I do think I wrote it well, at the very least, so I'm gonna post it here. I believe it was written in 2012.

He normally didn’t take the shortcuts home from work—they went through a bad part of town, through alleys and tiny passageways that were probably extremely dangerous (not that he, y’know, personally knew, but he figured), but today, he was in a hurry.

So he  _did_ take a shortcut home, through an alleyway that would save him a few minutes on his walk, and stumbled upon—whoa.

He literally stumbled over a pair of legs, and glanced over to…a person.

A person who was obviously crying.

A person who was holding a switchblade, crying, and apparently hadn’t noticed Liam, even though he’d literally tripped over his legs.

A person who was currently holding the switchblade to his forearm and pressing it into his skin, alongside where there were already cuts bleeding onto the dirty, mucky gravel beneath him.

“Whoa,” Liam said instinctively, before he could stop himself, and the lad looked up, suddenly, eyes blowing wide, and Liam noticed blue eyes and blond hair and he looked  _really, really young_.

“What?” he asked in a voice that was cold, uninviting, like he wished Liam would just go away, just leave, like probably other people had caught him before and just ignored him, probably.

Which, like, Liam would’ve, if he was smart; he’d found a guy, obviously mentally unstable, clutching a switchblade, in a deserted alleyway, late at night. Right. He should’ve just moved on.

But something vulnerable about the boy’s face drew him in.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and Niall laughed humourlessly, and yeah, maybe it wasn’t one of his best moments.

“Do I fucking look like I’m okay?”

Liam winced, shook his head, and seriously considered just—leaving. Going on his way.

But, again, he found that he couldn’t.

So instead, sighing, he sat down on he wet pavement, shivering in disgust as he (almost) put his hand in…well, he’d rather not know  _what_  it was.

“What’re you doing?” the blond asked, again extremely coldly, and Liam saw his jaw clench.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” Liam pointed out, and again, the boy laughed mirthlessly.

“Pretty obvious what ‘m doing,” he muttered, glancing down at the knife in his hand, where the blood glinted in the one streetlight a few metres away.

“Okay,” Liam replied slowly, “Why’re you doing it a better question?”

The boy grimaced, glancing back up, and shrugged.

“Y’know. The usual.”

Feeling that he wasn’t going to get much else out of the lad at the moment, Liam stood back up, offering a hand.

“C’mon. Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

The lad looked up at him, an eyebrow cocked.

“’D rather not,” he replied, but Liam shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re coming back to my place and we’re getting you cleaned up.” He sighed as the blond continued to watch him sceptically. “I’m a nurse, ‘kay? I know what I’m doing.”

“Sure you’re not gonna rape me or sumthin’?”

Liam smiled wryly.

“You’ve got a blade to defend yourself anyway.”

The boy actually laughed at that, rising from the ground as well.

“Fine, then. Take me home.”

Liam nodded, and they started walking the rest of the way down the alley, to a rather deserted street, where Liam turned right.

“What’s your name, anyway?” he asked, glancing over at the boy, who was still playing with the knife as they walked along the sidewalk. He glanced up at Liam’s question.

“Niall. Yours?”

“Liam,” he held out his hand, which Niall looked at a moment before grasping it in his own, “Nice to meet you.”

Niall snorted, and Liam smiled again.

“Okay, maybe not the best circumstances. But—”

“’S the thought that counts,” Niall finished, grinning, too, and Liam saw a break of real personality, and felt his smile grow a little bit as they approached his building.

“Here,” Liam turned again, to a shoddy-looking building, and Niall stopped, looking up at the grimy exterior.

“You live here?”

Liam shrugged.

“London’s expensive, and I’m still in medical school. So yeah, for now at least.”

Niall looked warily over the dirty glass doors but shrugged, following Liam into the building, past a security guard who greeted him cheerily, and to the stairs.

“Sorry, we’re gonna have to take the stairs, the lift’s not working.” He snorted as he started climbing. “Actually, the lift’s been down since before I moved in.”

Niall gave a bit of a laugh at that, as well, following Liam up two flights of stairs and down a hallway, to the last door on the right.

“This is it,” Liam pointed, digging into his pocket for the key, unlocking the door and opening, “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

He opened the door, letting Niall go through first, and following quickly, flicking on the lights to reveal a small, but extremely clean, apartment.

“Looks better than the rest of the building,” Niall commented, glancing around, finally flicking the switchblade shut and stuffing it in his pocket as Liam shut the door.

“Thanks,” he murmured, “I tried my best.” There was a lapse in the conversation then, and Liam sighed. “C’mon, let’s go to the bathroom and get you bandaged up.”

“’S not actually that bad,” Niall disagreed, following Liam through a small living area to a bedroom, which was a bit less clean than the rest of the house, and into a tiny bathroom.

“Yeah it is,” Liam shook his head, getting into a medicine cabinet above the toilet, “I’m the nurse here.”

Niall gave a small grin at that, hopping up onto the counter and waiting as Liam grabbed a few things—peroxide, antibiotic cream, and a bandage, plus some tape, setting them out on the counter next to Niall. He put on rubber gloves and got out a cloth, wetting it in the sink.

“Let me see your arm,” he said, and the blond held out his arm for inspection, where blood was still oozing from a few of the wounds, most of the blood dried by then. Liam winced, and started about washing it off, finding it a bit surprising (and perhaps he shouldn’t have) that Niall didn’t so much as flinch as he wiped the blood away.

After that was done, he got out another small cloth out and poured some peroxide on it.

“This’ll hurt a bit,” he said, dabbing at the cuts, but again, Niall didn’t once wince or pull away, just stared at his arm as the peroxide bubbled up, staving off bacteria and an infection.

Next was the antibacterial, and then, the bandage, of which Liam wrapped around the other lad’s arm a few times before cutting it, securing the end with a piece of tape, and wrapping the tape around his arm a couple of times.

“There,” he said after he was done, making sure there was no way any infection could get into the cuts, “All better.”

Niall murmured a thanks, and hopped down, watching as the brunette put everything back away, throwing away the two cloths and his gloves.

“Want some tea, or something to drink?” Liam offered, leading the way back out into the living room. Niall bit his lip, looking around, and nodded.

“Uh. Sure. Tea, I guess.”

“’Kay. Take a seat. I’ll be back,” he gestured towards the couch in the living area, and wandered off through a door to the kitchen.

It was a few minutes before he came back, two cups of tea in his hands, and found Niall looking over the sparse photos that decorated his walls.

“This is your family?” he asked, turning around to face Liam, who nodded, going over and handing Niall one of the mugs.

“Careful; it’s hot,” he said, looking up at the pictures—one of a few Christmas ago, with him and his sisters and parents, one of him and his mum, graduation, and a few from his last summer before he’d gone off to London and to university, and one of the entirety of his mum’s side of the family, from when he was about ten years old, “Yeah—that’s my family.”

“Lucky you,” Niall muttered, pulling himself away from the wall and going back over to the couch, sitting down as Liam followed.

“So—you gonna tell me about your obviously fucked up situation? I don’t think you were sitting in that alley bawling and cutting yourself for no reason.”

Niall visibly tensed, then tossed a glare at Liam, who wondered for a moment if the blond would just up and leave, then. But he didn’t. He looked back down into his tea and sighed.

“You’ve got a great family,” he said, “So you probably wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” Liam responded, and Niall looked back up and gave a short, jerky nod.

“My family sucks. I—I don’t think they know  _how_ to love. I think that gene passed over the lot of them.” Niall paused, looking off as if trying to think of something. “Think of your family. Now, think of the opposite. Not—not abusive, in any way, nah, not really, just—not there. Everything’s so technical. Set in stone. We’re not a family; we’re people living in the same house.”

“Emotionless,” Liam offered, and Niall nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah. Emotionless. There’s not really any feelings. Or anything like that.” Niall nodded his head toward the pictures, “You all look happy there. Happy is an emotion. We don’t have happy. We’ve got—nothing.

“And. I don’t’ve mates, either. I mean, I do, but, nobody ‘m close to.” He shrugged. “People don’t like me, never have—” his voice broke for a moment, and Liam felt suddenly protective, and sad, and heartbroken, too, as Niall continued, “And people  _never_ love me. I—I think there might be somethin’ wrong with me.”

“No,” Liam whispered the word at first, and Niall glanced back at him, confused, so he spoke up, “No. I refuse to believe there’s anything wrong with you. You seem really sweet and good and likable and—how  _can’t_ people like you? I mean—I’m sure I could love you. Easily. I sort of already do, in a way.”

Niall continued to stare at him, critically, like he was waiting for a laugh, or to see a break in a facade or something—like something wasn’t right, or wouldn’t be right. So Liam continued.

“I really could, Niall. I just…”

Niall sighed, then, biting his lip once and glancing at the clock.

“I—I should go. I need to get home, ‘n’ it’s getting late.”

Liam sighed in response, rising as Niall did and nodding.

“I’ll—show you out.”

They walked to the door in silence, and then, on impulse, at the door, Liam took a step forward and—kissed Niall. Who, at first, seemed utterly surprised, and almost pulled back, but then—sort of melted into the kiss, and kissed back, and Liam thought that for such and “unlikable” person, he was one hell of a good kisser.

And when they pulled apart, Liam smiled a bit at Niall, who smiled a bit back, and—just like that, Liam found that there was actually a  _lot_ of truth to his words.

This was one boy he could easily imagine himself falling in love with.

“Can I—y’know, do you have a mobile?”

Niall sort of blushed then, and it was an adorable look, really.

“Uhm, yeah.” He gulped. “Do you—?”

“Yeah,” Liam breathed, and they swapped numbers, and grinned at each other again.

Who knew what it could be the beginning of?

**Author's Note:**

> find me at [onedirectionaremyfirstlove](http://onedirectionaremyfirstlove.tumblr.com/) or [asocialfoxpaw](http://asocialfoxpaw.tumblr.com/)


End file.
